


Flying

by castielrisingabove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Gen, Go-karts, M/M, One Shot, Post Season 11, Summer, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 22:26:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7592608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielrisingabove/pseuds/castielrisingabove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel wants to drive the Impala, Dean's hesitant. After all, driving Baby is a pretty big deal. Luckily, Sam's got a way to settle this disagreement: a go-kart race.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying

It’s another hot July day and Dean is still trying to figure out whether or not it’s better to be out in the blazing sun, or cooped up in the dusty confines of the Bunker. The fact that  _ this _ is his decision of the day makes him laugh. Everything has been so...simple, as of late. The Darkness is gone, Crowley’s keeping the demons at bay and the angels have been working to mend Heaven.

Well, all the angels but one. 

Cas has become a permanent presence in the Bunker. It’s been a near effortless adjustment. First, Cas chose a bedroom for his own: right across the hall from Dean, which he chose with a bit of prodding from Dean. Next, it was trying new clothes. Cas, as it turns out, has a few from his human days stashed in the trunk of his Continental, mostly ill fitting pants and old t-shirts, but he’s taken to wearing them, along with the occasional article of clothing stolen from Sam and Dean’s laundry. 

Sam keeps saying they should take him out to get his own clothes, some that fit no less, but secretly Dean likes to see Cas in his old flannel. And Cas is making the Bunker his home in more ways than one. He’ll settle in on an armchair with his nose in an old book, or scoot onto the couch when the Winchesters are watching a movie. He showers with them, eats with them, even goes with the occasional hunt with them and Dean has never been happier.

The hunting has slowed down. Sam has filled the gap with all the more research. Some on the supernatural, he wants to stay sharp, but also there’s been an increasing amount of books of law. Dean wouldn’t be surprised if one day, Sam announces he’s been accepted to law school. Secretly he hopes Sam will attend one nearby, but they’ll cross that bridge when they come to it.

Cas has started a garden. It’s a little patch outside the Bunker, one he’s put a lot of time and energy into tending. Dean knows nothing about growing things, but Castiel seems to have a knack for it. So far, the ground has yielded a tiny crop of tomatoes, but Cas assures the Winchesters that green beans and carrots are on the way. It’s almost hypnotic, watching Cas take care of the garden, his face blissfully free of the regular lines of worry that usually crease it. 

This is where Dean is now, watching Castiel manage the garden. He’s not sure how the angel can stay so devoted to the cause, especially as it’s hot as hell outside today. Sweat drips down the tanned skin of Cas’ bare neck and Dean follows the curve of Castiel’s back, down his strangely bare arms. Dean’s still getting used to the fact Cas isn’t always in his trench coat. His eyes drift down Cas’ toned arms to his hands. Dirt lines Cas’ fingers as he digs through the soil, tugging a few stray weeds from the nearly immaculate garden.

“How much longer is this gonna take?” Dean asks, wiping sweat from his brow as he squints back in the direction of the Bunker. They’re not far, but any step in this oppressive heat seems to last a lifetime. 

Cas’ brow furrows, his face falling into a familiar scowl as he tugs another weed from the dirt. “You don’t have to be here.”

“I want to,” Dean responds quickly, “I just...aren’t you burning up out here?”

“I...suppose so,” Cas concedes, tugging another spiky plant from the ground. He sits back, wiping the sweat from his face and Dean can’t help but stare at how cute his dirt-streaked jawline is. “But I’m done now.” 

The ex angel stands, brushing the dirt from his hands as to not stain the light blue t-shirt he was wearing. His hair sticks up, a product in part from the dirt and sweat. It’s fairly reminiscent of the look Cas used to rock as an angel fresh on Earth and Dean has to admit, it looks pretty damn good. Hell, this whole new look has got Dean wanting to do all sorts of things with the angel, things he’s tried valiantly (and failed) to stop thinking about.

“So, what do you want to do?” Cas’ blue eyes peer at Dean and it feels, for a moment, like Dean has been voicing his thoughts aloud.

“What?” Dean splutters, sure some of the heat on his cheeks now has something to do with the situation, more than the blazing sun.

“Well,” Cas explains, kneeling to grab his bumblebee watering can and small kit of gardening tools before starting to walk back towards the Bunker, “You’ve been so kind as to sit through my gardening, I thought you would enjoy choosing the next activity.”

_ Oh.  _ Oh thank goodness. Still, Dean can’t help but feel a slight twinge of disappointment that it hadn’t slipped out. That he hadn’t had some excuse to pull Cas in his arms and press their lips together, gardening supplies be damned. This, of course, is not something he has the guts to voice aloud coherently, so instead Dean simply mutters, “I kinda like introducing you to human things.”

Dean holds the door open for Cas on their way into the Bunker, because Cas’ hands are full, not because Dean’s trying to impress him in any way, as Cas mulls over the statement. As the angel puts the supplies away in the garage, his eyes brighten. “I’ve always wanted to drive your car,” Cas says, voice full of an almost childlike excitement.

“Woah, buddy, don’t get ahead of yourself there,” Dean raises his hands in mock surprise, “Ain’t nobody driving Baby but me.”

Almost immediately, Cas’ brow furrows, his lip jutting out in a juvenile pout as they make their way to the kitchen. “Why not?” he says in a voice that Dean’s surprised to say sounds a lot like whining.

“Why not what?” Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table, snacking on a bag of chips and a small jar of salsa that he insisted they buy last week at an impromptu visit to a local farmer’s market. Dean plops down on the table itself, grabbing a tortilla chip and digging it into the salsa.

“Dean refuses to let me drive his car,” Castiel replies, standing close to the table but too agitated to partake in the snacking. “Though he  _ knows _ such an act is a gesture of brotherly solidarity.”

Dean nearly drops his chip at Cas’ reasoning, a splatter of salsa dripping onto the table. “I didn’t mean it like  _ that!” _

“But Sam has driven the car before.”

“Yeah, but...he’s proven he can manage it!”

“I have driven my Continental for the last year, with no accidents to note. I believe that to be adequate proof.”

Sam watches the argument unfold with amusement. There’s something refreshing about the only drama in the Bunker coming because Dean won’t let Cas drive. It almost makes them feel like a real family, one without the typical cares of the world. And Sam’s more than happy to let the ordinary fantasy continue. 

“I know a way to settle this,” he interrupts with a smirk, which only widens as both Cas and Dean turn to stare at him. About time for them to leave their little bubble anyway. “Go karts.”

The other two replied at once, Dean with a “Are you kidding me, Sammy?” and Cas with a whole hearted “That sounds enjoyable.”

“Wait, what?” Dean turns to look at Cas, “Do you even know what go-karts are?”

Castiel nods earnestly, pulling out a chair to sit next to Dean and Sam. “There was a course not far from the Gas-n-Sip where I worked. I often heard customers talking about their plans to race the karts for recreational purposes...it sounded like a wonderful distraction.”

Dean scoffs. “It’s like a bad knock off of what real driving is like.”

“I heard it was like flying…” Cas replies wistfully, staring off into the distance. He didn’t speak about it often, but Dean knew Cas missed his wings, probably more than anything else he was losing with his fading grace. Of course, Cas had made it his mission to keep these sorts of pains to himself, insisting that he did not want to burden Dean with any more than he already had to carry.

Dean might not know how to convince Castiel that it was okay to confide in him, that he wanted it, but he  _ could _ possibly give him this moment.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean says, grabbing another chip, “Let’s go ride go-karts.”

“Seriously?” Sam’s face is such that Dean knows he couldn’t have possibly expected Dean to play along with the ridiculous plan. Now it’s Dean’s turn to smirk, though it fades into a genuine smile as he sees just how happy Cas looks at the idea.

“And if I win the race,” Castiel says, “I can drive the Impala?”

“Sure,” Dean shrugs, “Though I have to warn you, I’m pretty much a  _ pro _ at go-karting.”

As it turns out, Dean is not even close. They drove half an hour to a nearby outdoor go-karting joint, and Dean’s already regretting his decision before they can even buy tickets. The place is old and run-down, a chain link fence surrounding a concrete, winding track. The old tires on the edges, clearly used as buffers, seem to have rubbed against the karts themselves, leaving most of the colorful karts with dark streaks down the side. Everything smells faintly of gasoline and fried food, the latter emitting from a local food stand nearby.

He’s considering just dumping the whole idea, but one look at Cas, who clings to the chain link fence, eyes wide with wonder as he watches other racers whizz by on the track, sets him to make the stupidest decision he’s made in a while. “What are we waiting for?” Dean asks, “Let’s tear this track up.”

The line doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes. The track isn’t all that crowded in the middle of the workday, though Dean does note that most of the other racers are children. Still, as they get closer to their turn, Castiel’s excitement seems to grow. Oddly, Sam’s does as well.

“What are you so cheerful about?” Dean asks finally, turning to face Sam.

Sam shrugs. “Dad never let us ride these. And I guess...I dunno, it’s kind of nice to get the chance to?”

Dean’s face softens, the older brother responsibility perking up at the realization he’s inadvertently provided for his little brother. It’s a little too mushy a moment, and Dean has to follow up with, “Guess I’ve got the chance to kick your ass at go-karts then, bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam huffs a laugh and it’s evident there’s no real ill-will between them. That alone is one of the best things Dean could ever ask for. His happiness is compounded by Cas grabbing his arm excitedly.

“It’s our turn, Dean!” Cas says, his calloused palm warm against Dean’s arm. Once again, Dean’s tempted to tug him into a kiss.  _ For luck _ , he’d tell Cas, as though they were in some sort of romantic movie, instead of racing go-karts over whether or not Cas could take a chance behind the wheel of Dean’s Impala.

Deep down, Dean isn’t even sure why he’s holding out about that issue at all. After all, Cas has proven to be a perfectly good driver. And Dean has called him his brother, so Cas is undoubtedly family. Maybe there’s a bit of fear involved. Letting Cas drive is making this official in a way that even the name “brother” does not. And there’s also the fact that Dean’s always imagined taking Cas driving in a more...well, romantic capacity.

He wants to tell Cas this, all of this, but instead, Sam is nudging Cas forwards, out of arm’s reach of Dean. Traitor. 

They have first pick of the karts. Dean immediately gravitates towards a sleek black one that reminds him immediately of Baby. The fact the kart is sponsored by the local mechanics is just icing on the cake. Sam’s picked a red kart with flames drawn down the sides and Dean can’t help but be reminded of the stupidly fancy Mustang Sam had chosen to drive when he was soulless. This kart is endorsed by the local gym, which is fitting for Sam.

To Dean’s surprise, Cas has seated himself in a yellow and black striped kart with the phrase “Bee Mine” stenciled on the side. Apparently the kart is paid for by the local farmer’s market and Cas is currently stroking the wheel like he’s never driven anything more wonderful before. Dean’s heart melts a little. 

He’s about to call something out to Cas when the worker officiating the rides comes onto the speaker system, speaking loudly about the various rules and regulations of the course. At the end of his speal, there’s a sound not unlike a horn and they’re free to zoom out of the waiting area.

Sam is the first one on the course. He’d actually look pretty cool, especially with his longer hair streaming behind him, if it wasn’t for the fact he was entirely too big to be driving the kart. Sam’s long legs were bent at the knee, sticking up in an awkward position. Still, Sam was grinning. Apparently it didn’t matter how well he fit in the kart, all that mattered was living out a childhood dream.

Dean is next, and he quickly finds that riding a kart has little similarities to driving a car. The thing rattles with every bump, shaking almost uncontrollably when it comes time to round a turn. It’s enough to make Dean feel like he’s about to lose his lunch, how much his stomach is jiggling. He’s regretting every decision made that resulted in him driving this hunk of junk when a faint  _ *toot toot*  _ of a kart horn sounds behind him.

Suddenly, Cas is whizzing past him and Dean almost swerves into the wall, he’s so distracted by it. The wind is ruffling up Cas’ dark hair and his blue eyes are intensely focused on the road ahead and oh, he’s  _ smiling _ like Dean has only rarely seen him smile. For one brief moment, Cas takes his eyes off the road to look at Dean and it’s like the whole world stops. Dean catches his breath as Cas’ smile widens, sharing some silent, secret moment with Dean before he sped past him.

Dean, on the other hand, drives straight into a wall. It takes the worker a little while to come set his kart straight, but Dean doesn’t mind. Especially because it means there’s another moment for Cas to zoom past him. Same bright smile, although this time he even takes his hand off the wheel for the tiniest of waves. Sam passes too, and Dean engages in some sibling banter before his brother is off again.

When he’s back on track, the nauseous shaking begins anew, but Dean knows he would gladly ride this track forever if it meant seeing Castiel look so happy.

The ride ends and the three of them clamor out of their karts, Cas practically floating on air as they make their way to the exit. “It almost felt like flying!” he announced, his voice so happy that Dean and Sam couldn’t help but smile too. “Can we do it again?”

“I don’t think so,” Dean replies as they walk back towards the car. Cas’ smile fades, and Dean quickly adds, “Because you beat me! That means you’ve got to try driving the Impala.”

Cas’ jaw drops and he looks from Dean to Sam and back again, clearly trying to tell if they were joking. “You mean it?”

The summer sun beats down on them, but it suddenly doesn’t matter. “Yeah,” Dean tries desperately to seem as casual as possible, “Me ‘n Sam--”

“Just make it the two of you,” Sam interjects, “I saw an antique shop a couple blocks away and I’m dying to see if they have any useful books. You can take Cas on a spin down some of the country roads while I browse.”

That wonderful, amazing nerd. Dean makes a mental note to choose a healthy restaurant the next time they go out to eat, as a thank you to Sam. WIth a grin, Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket, tossing them to Cas, who catches them with ease. Neither of them can hide their smiles now, and Sam’s giving Dean a knowing look before walking off with a wave.

It doesn’t take long for Cas to get situated in the driver’s seat of the Impala, carefully adjusting the length away from the steering wheel, before carefully feeling the stick shift. His fingers keep squeezing the wheel, a very human sign of nervous energy.

“I know what I said before,” Dean says, equally nervous for other reasons, “But in all honesty, you’ll do great. When she gets cruising, it’s practically like flying.”

“This is a bigger deal than flying,” Cas replies, fumbling with the key as he tries to insert it into the ignition.

“Driving?”

“Your approval,” his blue eyes turn to gaze at Dean, trailing slowly down from Dean’s eyes to linger for a moment on his lips before returning to peer into Dean’s soul. Something warm and wonderful blazes in Dean’s heart and once again, despite the heat of the car and stickiness of the seats, he can’t help but wish he could freeze this moment in time.

“You’ll always have my approval.” To his embarrassment, Dean’s voice is barely above a squeak. He’s leaning closer to Cas, hovering above the stick shift. Cas seems to be doing the same, until their noses are practically touching. Cas’ smile is almost brighter than the sun.

“You know...the feeling I get being with you is always better than flying,” Cas’ voice is deeper than usual, low and gravelly and so quiet Dean almost missed it. And then Cas’ soft, chapped lips are pressed against Dean’s. For a moment, Dean’s heart short circuits,  _ is this really happening? _ , before he kisses back. It’s chaste, but they linger for a moment before pulling away.

“So...where to?” Cas asks, trying to sound casual despite the megawatt smile plastered across his face. 

“Anywhere with you,” Dean beams, a little dazed. There’s going to be a lot to talk about later, he knows. And even more to discuss when they pick up Sam, Cas has rarely been good at keeping secrets. But right here, right now, everything doesn’t have to be said with words. He intertwines his hand with Cas’ as Cas starts the ignition, speeding away down the country road.

Cas is right. This is so much better than flying.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked reading this as much as I liked writing it :) As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated!


End file.
